Page 31 of The Duke's Bride in Disguise
"Lud," she sighed, "I don't know if I can wait until then. Perhaps we could walk, Mary? It's not so far, perhaps an hour at the most."
If she had said that she intended to run naked down Oxford Street, the trio of servants could not have looked more surprised than they did at the announcement that she intended to walk.
"Walk, my Lady?" Freddie asked, hastily rearranging his expression from one of incredulity to one of polite interest.
"Walk?" Herbert echoed in disbelief.
"Walk?" Mary, who was the only one present who knew that Ava was not Emily, did not hold back her horror at the idea, "Over Westminster Bridge? What am I supposed to say to Lord Fairfax, when you get kidnapped by ruffians?"
"You can say that I died in pursuit of charity," Ava replied dryly, casting Mary a glare.
"I rather think I might be able to assist with avoiding your death, my Lady," a smooth voice called from behind.
Ava stiffened, for she knew who it was that had spoken. How on earth did the man manage to materialise everywhere she went?
"Your Grace," Ava turned and cast the duke a courteous smile, "A lady could almost believe you were following her, given the rate in which we seem to unexpectedly bump into each other."
Was it her imagination, or did the duke blush? Surely a man as powerful as he, had better things to do than follow her around London?
"I had business in Parliament," Kilbride said with a shrug, "And you are rather hard to miss, my Lady, given that your carriage is blocking the road."
Indeed, carts, carriages, and riders on horseback were struggling to weave their way around the stricken Landau, and many drivers were waving their fists and grumbling in annoyance.
"I can take you," Kilbride continued, his blue eyes watching her closely, "Wherever it is that you want to go."
Goodness; what girl wouldn't want to hear that from a duke, Ava thought with a shiver; and such a handsome one at that. Kilbride, as well as having the physique of an athlete, also possessed the face of an angel—or should that be a devil, Ava thought in panic. His masculine, strong chin and angular cheekbones, were contrasted sharply with his full, sensuous mouth. His colouring was dark, much like hers, but his eyes were a piercing shade of blue, so intense that it was almost as though he could see through her.
"Well?" Kilbride cocked an eyebrow, as though his offer was a dare and not an act of chivalry.
"Thank you, Your Grace," Ava said, deliberately avoiding looking at Mary, whom she could sense was hopping in annoyance, "You are most kind; we were headed in the direction of the Asylum for Orphaned Girls, in Lambeth—do you know it?"
"I do," the duke replied with a bow, before gesturing for Ava and Mary to follow him.
With a wave to Freddie and Herbert, Ava followed the duke toward his waiting vehicle—a gleaming, new Phaeton—with Mary trailing miserably behind. There would be much grumbling from the lady's maid later that evening, Ava thought with a small stab of guilt. Still; if she discovered something—anything—at the Asylum, it would be worth listening to the grumbles of a thousand Hibernians.
"I'm afraid it will be a bit of a squish," Kilbride said apologetically, as he assisted Ava, and then Mary, onto the high seat of the Phaeton, "I hope you don't mind."
"No matter," Ava replied airly; but as the duke hopped, agile as a cat, into the seat beside her, she could have eaten her words. She had never been seated so close to a man in all her life, and as she felt the heat emanating from his body, and his strong thigh pressed against hers, she wondered if she would survive all the way to Lambeth without fainting.
